


Et Non Morietur

by softlyinthestreetlights



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 19:32:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1177030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softlyinthestreetlights/pseuds/softlyinthestreetlights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short ficlet. Bela resurrects and old flame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Et Non Morietur

Standing here wasn’t what she thought it would be.

Gathering the ingredients and drawing the appropriate summoning symbols was one thing. Lighting the match was another.

But was there really a choice? She only had three weeks left. And no one she wanted to spend them with.  
Hands shaking, she opened the matchbook. It was one from some backwater bar she’d stopped by on the way over. The beer had been lukewarm, a stretch to ironic. 

She’d have smiled to herself if there was really anything to smile about. God, was there really anything she wasn’t willing to do?

Deciding no, there wasn’t, she lit one. Watched it burn until it was biting at her fingers before dropping it. Flames sprung up from the bowl, given life where there was about to be none. Ironic. Pathetic. Whatever.

Summoning had never been her strong point, things went wrong. She supposed she just wasn’t a strong enough focal point, fading life force and all. Flickering more like it these days. She watched the flames falter and stutter out, not wanting to look up in fear that what she wanted wasn’t there. She supposed she could try again, and maybe actually draw a demon trap this time. Take better care of the life that she’d thrown away 10 years ago.

“Bela?” It didn’t sound like Ruby, but bodies changed. And suddenly it felt like she was breathing with corrupted lungs. She couldn’t go through this alone.

And there were hands forcing her to look somewhere other than the grimy bottom of the used ritual bowl. It was a face full of concern framed by dark hair. It didn’t look like her, but it had to be. Her Ruby. 

“Bela, what’s wrong?”

“I-,” and the words got lost in everything. She could feel tears, the unfamiliar crisp kind of damp that were running down her cheeks. She had so little time left and the one person she wanted there was staring at her, waiting for her say something and there was nothing she could think to say.

“Your time is almost up, isn’t it?” The demon’s thumbs were wiping the trails from her face and pulling her close.

And there, she didn’t have to say it. Never had to say it.

“Hey, now. What do you want from me?” It was nice to be held again, by someone who loved her, cradled against Ruby rocking back and forth like paper boats set sail.

“I didn’t want to spend it alone.”

“And all those years ago I said you wouldn’t have too. It’s okay. I’ll be here.” And even though the words fill her with relief they don’t stop the mid-cry hiccups from bubbling up.

Ruby laughs, because there’s no way Bela can keep quiet with diaphragm spasms, never has. It’s the laugh that she missed the one her mind liked to make her hear even though she was alone and her old flame was probably worlds away. “Take me home?”

“Yeah, where is home these days?”

“It’s nicer. The bed is bigger.” She actually bought it with Ruby in mind, half hoping that this would be the end result one way or another.

“Ohh, you’ll have to help me try it out won’t you?” And yeah, she probably will. For the next three weeks, which is all she really wanted anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt taken from sapphirestiel on Tumblr


End file.
